Nightmares
by Mrs Don Draper
Summary: Prompt: Daddy issues.  Warnings: Mentions of child abuse.  Pete wishes his father had been as kind to him as Don is.


"Accounts gets the bed," Roger had immediately declared, and aside from a pointed look from Joan, no one had objected. So it should have been of little surprise when Don walked into the office's bedroom and found one Peter Campbell curled up under the cushy blanket, fast asleep. Don rolled his eyes, took off his hat, jacket, and sat down on the edge of the queen sized bed to take off his shoes.

He reached out a hand and gave Campbell a shove. He was tired too, and Don needed just enough rest to take the edge off so that he could be ready for an all-nighter with Roger, Cooper, Lane, and Joanie. In response, Pete made incoherent mumbling noises and annoyed shooing motions with his right hand.

"Jesus, shove over, Pete," Don grumbled. He carelessly tossed his blue tie into a corner of the room.

Upon hearing another male's voice, Pete immediately awakened and sat up.

"Christ on a cracker! What are you doing?"

He sounded positively scandalized. Don turned to face him. Pete must have been practically sound asleep, thinking that no one would come in and disturb him. He was dressed only in his white cotton undershirt and his slacks were wrinkled from being slept in.

"Keep your voice down!" Don hissed. "We're all trying to get some sleep before we start the meeting."

"You weren't planning on sleeping here, were you? That's just indecent," Pete responded, nose in air.

Don began unbutton his shirt, ignoring Campbell's holier-than-thou attitude. He was exhausted. He had seniority. He was going to sleep there whether Pete was in the bed or not. Don pulled down the covers on the left side of the bed and slid underneath them. Campbell's face looked appalled at the mere idea. He had scooted himself to the edge of the mattress, unwilling to admit defeat to Don but also unwilling to sleep near a man in the same bed.

"Don...," he made one last attempt.

"Pete, just shut up and let me sleep."

So he laid his head down and pulled the covers over his should; his back was to Pete's. Pete brought his legs up to his chest, extremely uncomfortable with this whole situation. He desperately wanted to go back to his dream world, but having another male in the bed made him break out into a cold sweat. He shut his eyes tightly and tried to imagine that he was anywhere but here. Anywhere but next to the men who has his job in his hand. Anywhere but next to the man who-this close-reminded him of his father...

He tried to picture Trudy laying next to him, holding him close after a dreadful nightmare of nameless faces and monsters that were out to get him. Pete wished he could roll over, make love to Trudy, and fall back into a peaceful sleep. But nothing could shake the fact that this was Don Draper, all American male, resting six inches from him.

His breathing became rapid, and he tried to keep his panting as quiet as he could. Echos of not-so-distant memories creeping up from the cracks in the back of his mind. Pete remembered the way his bedroom door would open, yellow light bathing the carpeted floor with his father's silhouette making ugly black shapes. His father told him to stay quiet, don't yell, don't fight, don't cry. Don't cry._ Don't. Cry. _

Don turned back over when he felt the bed shaking.

"What the hell is it now?" he asked groggily.

He rolled all the way around to see what the problem was. He saw dewdrops were stuck to Pete's lashes, magnifying their already intense black color and bringing more attention to his crystal blue irises. His pink mouth was set in a solemn pout as he tried (and failed) to muffle his noises. Hands fisted in the covers. Don could not help but feel concerned at the site.

"What is going on?"

"Nothing, nothing. Please just go. I can't stand it!"

His voice broke as he begged Don to leave.

Don reached out a tentative hand to soothe the younger man, an instinct now after having three children, only to have him flinch violently away.

"Please don't hurt me!" he gasped.

He sucked in his bottom lip, worrying it with his pearly white teeth. Don was speechless-a feat most people could not claim. He could only stare with his large brown eyes, trying to figure out what (or who) had caused him to act like this.

"Who hurt you, Pete?" Don asked quietly.

"No one has. I can't sleep with you here..." He pressed a hand to his mouth. "I think I'm going to be sick."

He threw off the hotel's covers and ran barefoot to the large marble bathroom. He crashed to his knees and promptly threw up his lunch and dinner. Don got out of bed after him; Pete's sobs into the toilet bouncing off the bare walls. Don ran a glass under the tap and calmly handed it to a pitiful Campbell. He sipped it carefully and threw up one more time. Pete slowly finished the water, hoping it would settle his churning stomach.

Don then wet a washcloth and knelt down next to Pete. He took the tear stained face in his hand and gently ran the cloth over Pete's mouth, forehead, and the back of his neck. Pete leaned into the ministrations like a plant to sunlight.

"I wish my father had been like you," Pete whispered into the empty room.

And then Don understood. Understood why Pete acted so starved for attention, craved it especially from him. He didn't care whether it was for good or bad as long as it was from Don.

"We're going to get you to bed," instructed Don.

He helped the younger man to his feet; Pete wrapped his arms around Don's neck, making Don half carry, half support him back to the bed. He placed Pete on the side he had originally been sleeping in, giving him a perfect view of a night sky. A soothing picture. Don pressed the covers in around Pete a bit to ensure he would fall asleep again. Pete could sleep; Don had a meeting to go to. Someone was already softly knocking at the hotel room's door.

From the doorway, he turned around to check over Campbell one more time. Pete rolled over to face him, his blues focused right on his golden brown ones. They seemed to say more than words would.

"Good night, Pete. I'll be in the other room if you need me."

"Yes, Don."

Don flicked off the lights.

Pete slept.


End file.
